A Journey Of Dreams
by cas-the-unicorn
Summary: A Stydia AU: Lydia didn't have a death wish, but it happened anyway. It's just a one-shot, sorry.


**I don't think I've ever posted Teen Wold before, but, just so you know, it's my absolute favourite fandom ever. I actually wrote this for my creative writing class, but I thought you guys deserved to read it, too.**

* * *

The most common speed limit in civilian areas is between 20 and 30 miles per hour. If you go five above that, you are the normal licensed driver. Fifteen, you're in a hurry. Any more than that, you have a death wish. I didn't have a death wish. But it happened anyway.

It seemed like a pretty nice day. There was a blanket of clouds covering the entire town, and the chilly weather made me smile from ear to ear. I had on my favourite winter sweater with jeans. I was just getting out my stash of Christmas decorations for the yard when I heard someone call my name.

"Lydia!"

"What?" I turned around to see my best friend walking up the driveway. "Oh, hey Stiles."

He raised an eyebrow to my hoard of lights, trees, and Santa's. "Are you planning on decorating the entire block with that?"

"I like Christmas!"

"I never said you couldn't!" he said, laughing into his hand.

I turned back to my boxes. "Shut up."

Without another word, he walked up next to me and started on untangling my miles of red and green lights. Then I heard another person call me.

"No, I will not decorate your house, and no, I do not need your help with this," I told them, while continuing to work on organizing my reindeer.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"Not you, the other guy."

"What other guy?"

I turned around. There was no one in sight.

"Th-There was a guy calling my name." I turned to Stiles. "You didn't hear that?

"No…"

Again, I heard a deep voice calling my name. When I listened more closely, it sounded like it was coming from all around me. It was quiet, but undoubtedly there.

"There it is again! You cannot say that you didn't hear that."

Stiles eyed me worriedly. "Lyds, I didn't hear a thing."

I stood still for a moment, listening. There was nothing. "Sorry, it's probably just my lack of sleep taking its toll. Yeah. Sorry."

He eyed me for a few more seconds. "Sure, okay."

Not a moment later, a man blinked into existence. Right on the edge of my driveway. Like it was straight out of a bad sci-fi movie. "Lydia Martin!"

"What the f–" Stiles covered my mouth.

"Lyds, look at his lab coat. He's a fancy person. You don't cuss out fancy people."

"Lydia Martin?" the fancy guy repeated.

I stared at him for a second. "That's me."

He gave a relieved sigh. "Lydia, you are one hard girl to find. My collogues and I have been trying to get through to you for some time now."

"Through to me? From where, Asgard?"

Stiles elbowed me. I shrugged at him.

The fancy guy gave me a confused look. "No, from reality."

"Excuse me?" I huffed. "Just because I go a tiny bit overboard on Christmas decorations and put them out a little bit early doesn't mean – "

Stiles put his hand in front of my chest. Being the upstanding guy he is, he walked up to the man and put an arm around his shoulder, turning him away from me in the process. "Sir, I'm not exactly sure where you 'poofed' in from, but there is a hospital a few minutes walk away, why don't we –"

Fancy Guy wriggled out from under him. "No! Lydia, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were this deep in, but you need to wake up."

I blinked. "Sir, I am awake. I'm putting up Christmas decorations."

"No, Ms. Martin, you are not. Not really. Right now, out there," he gestured to the sky, "you are in a coma in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital."

His image flickered.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a lot of time, this is experimental technology, but Lydia, you need to wake up. Commonly, in coma patients, they will find a door or some kind of portal, after a long journey, to wake up. You need to find wherever in here is your least favorite place – don't ask, its also a trend – and go from there."

"No, I'm sorry sir, but I think you have the wrong Lydia Martin. I'm real. I'm putting up Christmas decorations."

His image flickered again. "Ms. Martin! This whole world, everything you have here, its all a dream! I'm very sorry that I don't have time to put this more delicately, but you don't have a lot of time! Beacon Memorial doesn't have enough funding to keep you on life support for much longer, so you need to find where ever it is that you hate, find your portal, and wake up!"

He disappeared.

"Lyds-"

"He's lying."

"Lydia, lets-"

"Or he's insane."

"Lydia, come on-"

"No, Stiles!" I spun towards him. "No! I have a very nice life here, with no family, no one except you, and I'm putting up Christmas decorations for my favourite time of the year, and I'm not even close to being done yet, and he's probably some insane comic book character, with nothing better to do than teleport to my home and –"

Stiles put his hands on my shoulders. "Lydia, you're right."

I looked up at him. "What?"

"You're right. He had to be lying." He smiled softly. "Come on, let's finish decorating."

And we did. We put up my reindeer, and hung my lights in the big oak tree beside the house and on the roof, and scattered the variations of Santa's across the freshly mowed grass. We laughed and even sang a few Christmas songs together.

But I knew.

"Stiles?" We were standing on the driveway of my dream house, gazing proudly at my dream décor.

"I'm in a coma, aren't I?"

His smile was soft and sad. "I think so."

My tears soaked his denim shirt for a long time after that.

* * *

"Okay, clothes?"

"Check."

"Food?"

"Check."

"Protection?"

I pulled my purple plastic knife out of my bra. "Check."

"Really, Lyds?"

"What, should I show all the crazy coma monsters that I have a way of protecting myself?"

"Who said anything about crazy coma monsters?"

"Me!"

Stiles sighed. "Okay, then I think we have everything."

"If all this stuff is really just all in my head, then why do we need food?

"To bribe the crazy coma monsters with, of course."

I smiled. "Okay then."

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

At that time, I thought that my coma world was just the real world, but with different things happening. It was a foolish hope, I know, but I don't think I could have walked out of that door if I knew what I would find at the end of that journey. But I didn't. So, I walked out the door. Thinking back, I wish that I had stood on the driveway for a moment longer with Stiles, and took in the sight of that house one last time. But, I thought that I would be waking up to it. So I walked down the street and didn't look back.

Ten minutes later, we were walking out of our neighborhood.

"So," Stiles looked at me. "Where is this place that you hate?"

"The gym."

He stopped walking. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"Of all the places you could hate most. Your mom's house, the park where Jackson broke up with you, and you hate the gym more than any of them?"

"It's the one where that rude boxing teacher broke my wrist."

He turned down the street. "Why in the world am I even friends with you?"

"Because you love me."

"To put up with that, I'd have to."

We arrived at the front doors.

"You ready?" Stiles asked.

"If you are."

We walked into the doors to a wasteland. Not just an abandoned gym, an actual, not outside, covered in garbage and dead things, wasteland.

"Lydia? I don't think a gym instructor broke your arm here."

"It was my wrist, and neither do I."

"So what is this?"

To answer his question, a building size spider started crawling up out of a hole in the ground. Then another. And another. Soon enough, there was a circle of seven giant wolf spiders surrounding us.

"Oh s–"

Stiles covered my mouth. "Lyds, what if gigantic spiders don't like swearing?"

I glared at him. "Do you realize that I'm deathly afraid of spiders?"

"Really? You know, I have this college buddy that is a fantastic therapist."

"I don't think this is the right time to worry about curing my arachnophobia! Maybe it would be better if we focused on getting out of here alive?"

That clicked something in his brain. He looked over at me wish an excited grin. "Lydia, this is you."

"Excuse me, are you calling me a spider?"

He shook his head frantically. "No, we're in your mind! You're afraid of spiders! This is the part of your subconscious that doesn't want you to leave! It's trying to get you to turn back! You have to cure your arachnophobia so that it can't be used against you anymore."

"Used against me… by me?"

He nodded.

"And how would I go about doing that?"

He pointed at my chest.

"Oh no, I am not letting those spiders-"

"No, Lydia, the knife."

I mouthed 'ohh' and pulled my purple plastic knife out of my bra. "I have to kill the giant spiders. The ones that I am deathly afraid of."

"Yep."

"Will you help me?"

"I'll distract them for you."

"You can't, you'll get hurt!"

"Ill be fine, Lyds."

"Stiles-"

"I'm not real, Lydia!" he shouted, exasperated. "I'm not real! I'm part of your dream world! I don't know if I am in your actual reality too, or if I'm only your dream best friend, but I'm just a part of your subconscious! I can't get hurt! So stop worrying about me, and lets go kill some Chrysler spiders."

I swallowed. "Let's kill some Chrysler spiders."

No more words were shared between us. Stiles's little speech had scared me, but also made me a lot more confident. This was _my_ mind. If I thought that I could kill some spiders, then I would kill some spiders.

Stiles ran at the spider right in front of me, swearing loudly at it. I guess he really did believe that they didn't like swearing. I came up at his right and waited for it to try to bite him.

The other spiders were crawling lazily around, but none of them tried to join in on the action and attack us, which made me very confused.

 _I guess my mind is trying to help me out a bit_ _,_ I thought.

After a particularly rude comment about the spider's mother, it swung its Chevy pickup-sized head down to bite Stiles. But I was ready. I jumped onto it and held onto the weird spider fur on its head.

Even today, I can still feel the disgusting hairs between my fingers.

It tried to shake me off, but I held on tight. Eventually, I got stable enough to raise my hand holding the purple plastic knife and stab it in the eye.

Suddenly, all the spiders were gone, and I was falling.

 _If I die now, I am going to come back as a ghost and punch that fancy lab coat guy in the face,_ I thought as I fell through the air.

But then I felt a pair of strong arms catch me. I looked up to see Stiles's face, beet red.

"I, um, I, sorry, you were falling, and I, um," he stuttered.

"It's okay. But you can put me down now."

"Oh, I, um, sorry." He set me down feet first.

I brushed myself off. "Well, there goes my fear of spiders."

As though my words triggered something, the wasteland around us disappeared, and we were suddenly inside a building with white walls covered in mirrors and a pair off double doors. Buckets of assorted clothes of assorted colours covered most of the floor.

"What fear is this?" Stiles asked.

People started walking through the double doors. They were wearing just the ugliest outfits, with the ugliest makeup imaginable. It hurt me to look at them.

"Oh, um –"

"What, do you not like people?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "Um, well, its not exactly the people I don't like…"

"What is it then?"

"…It's their clothes."

He stared at me for a moment. Then, he started laughing. "One of your biggest fears, the ones that your subconscious is using against you to try to make you turn back and give up on waking up, is your fear of ugly outfits?"

"Shut up! Its not just that!"

"Oh, please, tell me what else about these people shakes you to your core."

"Its their make up too."

"Oh my GOD!"

His legs failed him. He fell to the ground and had to lie on his back to catch his breath. The only other time this had happened was when he saw Louie Simon's occupation at our five-year high school reunion. That was where I met him. Well, I guess that's only where I met him in my coma world.

That thought brought a tear to my eye.

"Oh Lyds, I didn't realize how – are you crying?"

I quickly wiped my eyes. "I'm fine."

Stiles put his hands on my shoulders. "What's wrong? Did I hurt your feelings?"

I shook my head and looked up at him. Until then, I hadn't realized how much taller he was than me. The top of my head barely came up to his chin.

I sniffed. "What if you aren't real?"

"Well –"

"No, I mean, what if I really just made you up, and there's no Stiles Stilinski in my real world?"

He pulled me into a hug and sighed. "Lyds, you don't have to worry about that."

I laid my head on his chest. "I don't want to lose you."

"Lydia, no offense or anything, but I'm too amazing for you to have just thought up. You can't make up someone as awesome as me."

I laughed. He untangled himself from me and gripped my arms. "So, how do we face this fear?"

I looked around. "I think I have to put one on."

"One of the outfits?"

I nodded.

Stiles grinned mischievously. "Can I choose it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Go ahead."

For the next five minutes, he was running around the entire room, flinging clothes onto the floor, wrinkling his nose at some and holding others up to himself to see how it would look. After he destroyed the entire organization of the building, he ran back over to me with a neon pink camo T-shirt, a blue and green plaid skirt, red polka-dotted socks, and a tube of bright red lipstick. "If your fear is bad style, I think this works."

"No shoes?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"No shoes is bad style. Right."

Without me even having to ask, he turned around, which made me blush a bit. Wincing, I changed into the monstrosity that was Stiles's idea of bad style.

Lipstick and all, I turned him back around to see. "Ta da."

"Perfect."

I walked up to one of the mirrors on the wall. "If someone dared me, I guess I would walk around Holiday Park in this."

Stiles covered his mouth to hide his laughter. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Do I have to stay in this?"

"Oh yeah."

I giggled as I walked with him to the double doors. Outside, fortunately, I was switched back into my sweater and jeans. In front of us was am endless meadow. I walked forward slowly, smiling at its beauty. It took me back to the days spent with my grandparents, laughing and sweating in the wild flowers.

I was knocked out of my nostalgia by a sudden cry of pain and a thud.

"Stiles?"

Next to me, Stiles was lying on the ground, covered in blood. His chest was caved in, like all his ribs were broken, and a cut on his head was pooling blood onto the green grasses. He looked as if a car had hit him.

I knelt down next to him. "Oh f–" Stiles hit me on the arm.

"No cussing. Bad luck."

I hid my smile as I ripped off part of my sleeve to try to stop the bleeding from his head.

He twitched his hand. I grabbed onto it.

"This…this is your fear, isn't it?"

I nodded. "I can't lose you."

He let go of my hand and gestured weakly behind me. A few yards away was a big, deep hole in the ground. The portal.

"Alice in Wonderland?"

I laughed softly. "We watched it together at your house last month, remember? It's my favourite."

He nodded to it. "Go."

"I can't leave you!"

"You can't save me either." He winced at every word.

It was cruel. Part of me, part of my subconscious, was going to make me face my fear of losing Stiles by letting him die in order to wake up.

"I won't leave you."

"Then you'll die out there. Lyds, I – I'm not real. You are. Both of us are dying right now, and your death is the only one that will make a difference." He swallowed thickly. "Go."

Again, I hesitated. Then, I put my hands on his bloody cheeks and pressed my lips to his. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"See you soon, Lydia."

I stood up and walked over to the Wonderland hole. Still, I couldn't do it.

I turned around.

Stiles wasn't moving.

I jumped.

As I fell, I remembered all the great times I had spent with him. Requesting classes together in graduate school, matching out Halloween costumes together every year, picking out houses next door to each other. I remembered his words to me.

 _I'm not real. You are._

Unfortunately, that was true.

I woke up gasping in an empty hospital room. Monitors started beeping, and Ms. McCall rushed in. "Lydia, sweetie, do you know where you are? Do you remember anything?"

I did.

I remembered everything.

I remembered how I met Stiles in third grade, and how we had been inseparable ever since. I remembered how, when the fighting between my parents became too much to bear, I ran away my sophomore year of high school, and he had come with me. I remembered how Stiles really had fallen on the ground laughing at Louie Simon's occupation at our five-year high school reunion. I remembered how, in our first month in of junior year of graduate school, a couple of seniors challenged us to a car race on the interstate just outside campus. I remembered how I was driving with Stiles in the passenger seat, cheering me on, and going 100 in a 75 zone. I remembered how I didn't notice the semi truck in front of us until the front of my car slammed into the back of it. I remembered how the dashed board raced up to meet us, and the glove compartment hit Stiles in the stomach and his head broke the glass. I remembered how my head slammed into the dashboard and everything disappeared.

And, now, I can remember how I had to try to survive the rest of graduate school without him. I remember how I tried my hardest to get valedictorian, to make him proud, wherever he was, but only earned salutatorian. I remember how, when I made my speech at graduation, I ran off stage crying after telling a story about one of my many study dates with him.

Now, I am 29, remembering all of this in my empty house. No pets, no husband, no kids, no Stiles. After I woke up, my driver's license was revoked, understandably. I never tried to get it back. I couldn't trust myself, or really anyone, behind the wheel. Whenever I took a taxi to work and I saw that they were going even a mile above the speed limit, I would kindly ask them to drop me off on the side of the road, no questions asked.

I tried dating after, but I couldn't take it. I couldn't get past how my bad decision-making had put me in a six-month coma and the most important person in my life in a grave.

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 **Just so you guys know, I love getting prompts and ideas for stories. I hate Stalia and Marrish with a burning passion, but I love Stydia.**

 **Please review!**


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